Gogo's Driver's Ed Version two-point-ooh
by Insanity Studios Ink
Summary: My new and revised version of Gogo's Driver's Ed. Ever wonder where Gogo learned to drive? Well, now you know.


_I've decided to redo this, since the original version was only something like 600 words. I added some more details, and I might add a chapter later. More details at the end!_

Why take a class to learn something, when you already know how to do it? That was Go Go Tomago's opinion. Why did she need to take a Driver's Education course? She already knew how to drive quite well. But there she was, listening to Mr. Evon explain the basics of driving a car.

She knew where the ignition was, she knew how to change gears on a stick, she knew how to change the oil - or even replace the engine. And the rest of the imbeciles here weren't even sure which pedals did what.

Go Go sighed, the gust of air blowing her bangs out of her face. She didn't know how much longer she could put up with this stupidity. It was like using Microsoft Windows. They assumed you were a complete idiot; that you knew absolutely _nothing_.

She hated people like that. She had graduated high-school with a bachelor's degree in nanotechnology at the age of fifteen! She had majored in electomagnetics, for crying out loud! And people still insisted on thinking that she was a wimpy, whiny girly-girl who couldn't even tie her own shoes. Well, she'd shown them. Actually, she'd dedicated her life to showing up those who underestimated her.

She sat there moping, her mind groaning about how stupid this was.

Go Go was pulled from her pity-party by the teacher's voice. "Well Miss. Tomago, how would you react if your vehicle started to fishtail while you were turning?"

"You would ease off the brakes and accelerator, while steering the vehicle straight. You would turn slightly only to keep the vehicle on the road." she recited, quoting the closed handbook in front of her. She had memorized it at the age of nine.

Mr. Evon seemed surprised. "Er, correct. Good job."

She sighed, letting her head fall to the desk with a thunk. She was bored. Very bored. And nothing good comes out of her being bored.

The pad of paper in front of her seemed like a lifeline of opportunities. She nabbed a pen from the sleeping boy across from her, the ink scrawling across the paper as she drew. A fender, then a electromagnetic suspension. The brakes were harder, but she just modeled them after the brakes on her bike. Large, loopy handwriting filled the page as she explained the sketch to herself for later reference.

Her Toyota at home needed a brake change, anyway. Why not do this instead? She only had to get it to the lab. Without brakes. In San Fransokyo. Which is known for its _really_ steep downward hills. Oh dear. Oh dear, indeed.

But she was Gogo Tomago, and she would never give up. It was a manual; she could just use the engine brake to slow the car enough that she could turn into the curb. Yeah, that would work.

A ruler slapped loudly on her desk. The sleeping boy next to her shot up, eyes terrified, but she didn't flinch. Instead she looked up into the eyes of Mr. Evon, glaring at him with the same ferocity he glared at her with.

"Miss Tomago. This is not art class. Care to explain this?" he asked, voice sharp and cold as he held up her paper.

"Oh, sure." she responded with faux cheer, nabbing the paper back. "This is a diagram for the electromag suspension I was designing for a car. If you can read my chicken-scratch, it explains it all. The braking apparatus is here; it works relatively like a regular brake, but includes regenerative braking for hybrid vehicles. However, if you wanted, you could make the whole braking system into an alternator, since the brake disk is a magnet itself. I plan on making a prototype on my own car-"

"Thank you, Miss Tomago, I'm sure I'm looking at the future of cars. However, please do refrain from revolutionizing the car industry in my class." he snapped, sarcasm oozing from every pore of his body.

She responded with equal measures of sarcasm. "I'm sure my design is useless. After all, I've only majored in Electromagnetics and minored in nanotechnology. I'm sure I have no idea what I'm doing."

Whatever Mr. Evon was expecting from her, that wasn't it. He blinked in surprise, his face looked as if she had slammed a skillet over his head. That was the day Mr. Evon realized he needed to retire. That, and go locate a bottle of something stiff.

The day of the final exam came rapidly enough. Four weeks of dealing with blubbering baboons, and Gogo was just about ready to rip her hair out. There was only so much idiocy she could deal with, and she had definitely exceeded her limit for the week.

For the test, Mr. Evon called the students alphabetically. Gogo was last. After watching the rest of the imbeciles stall the car around the track, it was, _finally_ , her turn. The instructor rattled off the material tested, droning on until the girl was almost lulled asleep. He gave her the words; those wonderful eight words. "You may start when you are ready."

She geared herself up, checking everything over. Her joints cracked as she stretched one last time. She readied her feet, counting down in her head.

"You know, you should relAX!"

Before the last syllable was out, the tachometer had already passed six. Tires squealed as the four-door sedan flew out of the lot. Dave Evon let out a loud, high-pitched, and undignified screech. Gogo slammed on the pedals, changing through the gears like a rally-car driver. She yanked on the handbrake, then floored it, drifting around the first turn

Mr. Evon was thrown against the window from the force of it. His screams to slow down fell upon unyielding ears. Her face was one of determination as she slid to a stop at the stop sign, checking both ways before pealing off again.

Using her turn signal, she tipped the steering wheel to the left before spinning it to the right, sliding between the two cones and coming to rest where she started.

The instructor groaned in pain as he picked himself off the floor. He wanted to fail her, he wanted to fail her _so bad_ ; _b_ ut he couldn't. She'd followed every instruction to the letter, and there was no speed laws set.

She smirked at him as he located his clipboard. "You know, you really should buckle up. Seat-belts save lives!"

 _If you want, I'll make another chapter featuring Go Go's Toyota and the brake change. Might mix in a little Hirogo fluff for good measure. Oh, why is Go Go's car a Toyota, you ask? Well, this is San Fransokyo, a Japanese San Francisco. Only seems fitting she would drive a Japanese car._

 _Anywho, kinda late for me to Happy Thanksgiving, but I guess I could say Happy Early Holidays!_

 _~Best Wishes, Joan McCreedy_

 _P.S. You may have noticed that there was a different version of this up. I posted a different copy, but then added in the driving scene and re-uploaded. Sorry. :(_


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